A squirrel has the capacity
To reclaim nuts from memory.
But they can't make
Peanut Butter
To smear themselves,
Or their nuts,
Like animals
For ***.

The Bottlenose
Is self-aware,
We noted in
His glassy stare;
When put before
A carnival mirror,
So covex, concave,
Too complex,
We also note
A confusing quiver;
The water's not
What makes him shiver.

Pigs are said to be
As smart as me
When I was three.
Now I'm four.

A chimp can nail
Two boards together,
To make
A cross;
We pray they
Don't redress
Their loss.

Whale song is said
To carry on
Beneath the blue
For 1 00 miles.
Its got a beat.
Do they
Do the ****,
Or slow
Whale dance.

Crows, you know,
Have studied us
For 10 000 years.
They're iconic,
Mythic tricksters
Cawing knowingly
Above our ears.
So much so
For 10 000 years.
10 000 more
Should we rot
So long.

we are hyper-etymological so be aware
that tricksters and fools are up to no good
and *** between equals is very rare
dominance and submission is everywhere
**** is Buddhism without vowels
but the Buddha's wisdom is just and fair
for only the turning of the wheel of dharma
can alleviate the endless suffering of our karma

It was all over in a moment,
Everything you once hoped,
The second you saw the illusion
That the glistening mirage evoked.

Deep pools of green, chocolate, blue,
Each one a beautiful escape,
Each one designed as a cunning ruse,
The eyes meant to seal you in your fate.

Dew drops perfectly reflecting,
The geometric spiral awaits
Luring the innocent inside,
Then the guardian slams the gates.

The spider’s web and the eyes,
You go in when the trap is concealed.
Once the trap is sprung, the door is closed,
You gladly stay, the danger revealed.

The clever magician will have us believe,
that he keeps nothing up his sleeve,
that none of what he does is tricks,
that all of it is a pure mix,
of miracles that he creates,
and from thin air, substance, emanates.

The clever politician plays a similar game,
like the magician he will claim,
that from thin air he can produce,
the things with which he can ******,
whole populations for him to vote,
at your next election, please take note!

Tom 07/06/2012

I am keening
In lament
bewailed at this notion.
Contempt for structure, value and discipline is acceptable.
Jeremiad
A parent can't parent but would be praised for "friending" rather than tending to their child's growth.

Hippie tricksters and hipster is all the craze with new age bad zones and soft tones
Then everyone moans and claim the lack of parenting is to blame when they go columbine and spray bullets to deal with the torment.

I'm sick of the news and its pro no rules avocation
Sick of the pop trend of life is always a dead end
Sick of fly by night "let them be and hope they make it" attitudes
When a little hug and a quick "let me show you" can make our youths guide the progress rather than tear it down.

I little input is appreciated, accepted and acknowledged
But not mandatory
Be good be rewarded, be bad be without
Very self explanatory.
Those in between that goal are an obstacle not a hero
I want greatness for my child
Not mediocrity to a zero.

Parent with your experience and regulation
Not google and trending
See the end and before you begin and preempt the blind pretending.

Cuz today is not ok
When we fear tomorrow
Cuz yesterdays ways were forgotten.
From one father to the next

-Alexis J Meighan-

I want to be a pixie
Not a fairy,
Pixies are sensual
Beautiful tricksters
They flit around
From tree to tree
Tempt and taunt
And tease
And have no queen

Fairies on the other hand
Are innocent
And cute
They flit around
And do good
And listen to their queen
How adorable,
But not for me
I want to be a pixie.

I am keening
In lament
bewailed at this notion.
Contempt for structure, value and discipline is acceptable.
Jeremiad
A parent can't parent but would be praised for "friending" rather than tending to their child's growth.

Hippie tricksters and hipster is all the craze with new age bad zones and soft tones
Then everyone moans and claim the lack of parenting is to blame when they go columbine and spray bullets to deal with the torment.

I'm sick of the news and its pro no rules avocation
Sick of the pop trend of life is always a dead end
Sick of fly by night "let them be and hope they make it" attitudes
When a little hug and a quick "let me show you" can make our youths guide the progress rather than tear it down.

I little input is appreciated, accepted and acknowledged
But not mandatory
Be good be rewarded, be bad be without
Very self explanatory.
Those in between that goal are an obstacle not a hero
I want greatness for my child
Not mediocrity to a zero.

Parent with your experience and regulation
Not google and trending
See the end and before you begin and preempt the blind pretending.

Cuz today is not ok
When we fear tomorrow
Cuz yesterdays ways were forgotten.
From one father to the next

-Alexis J Meighan-

Morning sun splashes
molten gold over ripe wheat fields,
Spellbound,  stands a village lass,
she feels like a dragon fly, fragile but mirthful,
her spirit soaring high above the clouds,
one of those uncommon moments in her life,
when she felt something beyond words happening to her
she doesn't know how she forgets her dreary life
in which one day is just like any other.

Demure village belle, in her bright colored
patch-work dress, traditionally worn by women,
in Northern Indian villages, bathed in sun, walks alone,
through the winding village path, crossing fields.

Her smile conceals the pain, the thorns on her path give,
walks miles and miles in scorching tropical sun,
to the common well to get the water filled
in an earthen ***, carried on her head.
Her silver ankle bells, incessantly tell the tale of
harassment and violence, cheating, bullying, all that,
by ruffians, tricksters, con men and the like prowling,
on the wayside.Her own family members are no less!
**"It's all in a woman's life" she mumbles, curses fate-
something she has not fully understood, is this
why fate mostly interferes with the lives of women?

The Witch
Blessed be! the witch inside,
Look into your minds eye.
Friend of nature, elements and animals.
Down to earth they truly see,
the evil of the tricksters and wannabes.
Should not be punished for their craft,
There is beauty in a witches sacred art.
Witches change with the seasons,
They breath the air of liberation.
Witch is child of light and shadow,
Natures spirit flows within.
A witches roots run deep, their will is strong,
They will stand up for what is right.
Searching and finding, needing and minding,
Wondering when the quest will end.
A witch cannot hide who they are, a pagan child.
All who follow the faith must heed the call.

Written 18th June 2014

In the beginning
there is a class
of creatures we call Gods
that much later
we realize are just mono-
instances of god.

From the tower
I babble tongues,
coded messages and ciphers
that you implement
in your daily rituals
and obsessive behaviors.

In R, it's something like,
christ <- god(moral compass)

In Ruby it could be
buddha = God.new

And perhaps a nihilist or we
would find happiness in

10000.times do
pushRock = buhdda.take(me)
end

It's all pidgin for me,
unstructured glimpses at a world
that's moving and changing
faster than my non-existent
grandson can comprehend.

It's all a network
of +1 and like'd
firing mix media,
reinforcing a nascent
thought stream,  
back-propagating our legends
and fairy tales, Grimm
reminders of epic Odyssey |
5 Armies in film |
Warring States |
loping dog with a severed hand
in Akira black & white mouth
repossessing Spaghetti Westerns
back into our feudal *****.

Fire, firing
into the Monsoon rain.
Always in the Hemingway
rain of symbols and Matrix
green code.

And in my cupped hand,
I catch glimmering fireflies,
instances of Gaiman's
American gods, Tricksters,
Coyotes, and my faithful
Dog smiling at me.

Through the messy, dis-shaped contours

of pained reflections

the light — disarrayed, distorted —

make day of the endless night.

Colors and shapes manifest

in the once dark structure

through lighted emanations

projected forth by shadowed obstructions



Tricksters by nature

the archetypal projections dance

to the beat of an unheard drum.

Animated by the refracted light,

they

dance and dance

round and round

to the incessant rhythm.



Personified vessels

of noumenal glory

slowly guiding themselves

back home.

To the wicked widow that ***** the life out of her mate
To the tiny little fellow that crawls through my window and greets me with a goodnight kiss
To the brown girl with long legs that's sitting in my driveway
To the acrobats and the practical jokers
To the boy I saw at midnight looking for food in my kitchen
To the beautiful yellow girl who I used to see hovering over my swing set when I was a child
To the fast runners, the trappers, and the waiters
To the dangerous, and the harmless
To all the tricksters in the world

*I ******* hate you.

Cosmos’ in line
Trying times are hanging up
Harrowing efforts
Are disappearing from the host

Flying through concrete
The gold trap is deepening
Pant pockets are disappearing

Frayed lives are whimpering
Too much whispering
Richness is changing our living

Galaxies full of notion and time
In our mind they harbor
Asteroids driving our madness
To the core of the emptiness inside

Ticketing our ride home
The rail blurts its bias for us to be gone
So we fall asleep with its subdued sounds
Until we’re out and about
On our own two vehicles

Blasting tasting racketeering tricksters
Devine, sane, and holly men
No one is the same but we’re falling in
Forces are at a tug of war
We’re just the pawns in between

Once, I looked into your eyes and I saw arrogance, a layer coating sincerity.
Twice, I looked into your eyes and I saw fear and strength waging war.
Thrice, I looked into your eyes and I saw a desire to repair the broken.

But now I no longer see depth, turmoil, or compassion.
I see another broken soul pretending for the audience,
To play the part they're expected to live.

Occasionally I've seen you break the second wall,
And connect to the spectators looking in on your life.
And your character's mask did fall to the floor at times --
Long enough to get a good look at the boy inside --
Before we both resumed our true professions
As tricksters and jokers, jesters and puppets.
The lights are dimmed now, so they can't see our bursting seems.

Mints, Sages and Dill greet me
as I trample along the way
Stones hide under my toes
settling down to stay.
But they are pea pebbles
Not sharp, but rounded and small.
I try to shake them free
but they are not going at all.
Lavender and the Lilac grin
They have stones embedded too.
They long for the rains to come
drenching their roots wet through.
Basil and Thyme are not surprised
They have been through this before
The Violets have issues to fry
as the Pansies are first at the door.
When a whiff of bother shows its head
you can rely on the ***** to be there
Nothing gets past this little chap
So to the tricksters please beware.
The herbal path offers stories
one gets carried away along the path
to the little mouse nibbling like mad
to the wren bobbing in his mud bath.
There is not a day that goes by
when I do not dawdle on the stones
the crunchy noise it makes soothes my soul
and puts life in the well worn bones.

We sit together and talk, or smoke in silence.
You say (but use no words) 'this night is passing
As other nights when we are dead will pass . . .'
Perhaps I misconstrue you: you mean only,
'How deathly pale my face looks in that glass . . .'

You say: 'We sit and talk, of things important . . .
How many others like ourselves, this instant,
Mark the pendulum swinging against the wall?
How many others, laughing, sip their coffee--
Or stare at mirrors, and do not talk at all? . . .

'This is the moment' (so you would say, in silence)
When suddenly we have had too much of laughter:
And a freezing stillness falls, no word to say.
Our mouths feel foolish . . .  For all the days hereafter
What have we saved--what news, what tune, what play?

'We see each other as vain and futile tricksters,--
Posturing like bald apes before a mirror;
No pity dims our eyes . . .
How many others, like ourselves, this instant,
See how the great world wizens, and are wise? . . .'

Well, you are right . . .  No doubt, they fall, these seconds . . .
When suddenly all's distempered, vacuous, ugly,
And even those most like angels creep for schemes.
The one you love leans forward, smiles, deceives you,
Opens a door through which you see dark dreams.

But this is momentary . . . or else, enduring,
Leads you with devious eyes through mists and poisons
To horrible chaos, or suicide, or crime . . .
And all these others who at your conjuration
Grow pale, feeling the skeleton touch of time,--

Or, laughing sadly, talk of things important,
Or stare at mirrors, startled to see their faces,
Or drown in the waveless vacuum of their days,--
Suddenly, as from sleep, awake, forgetting
This nauseous dream; take up their accustomed ways,

Exhume the ghost of a joke, renew loud laughter,
Forget the moles above their sweethearts' eyebrows,
Lean to the music, rise,
And dance once more in a rose-festooned illusion
With kindness in their eyes . . .

They say (as we ourselves have said, remember)
'What wizardry this slow waltz works upon us!
And how it brings to mind forgotten things!'
They say 'How strange it is that one such evening
Can wake vague memories of so many springs!'

And so they go . . .  In a thousand crowded places,
They sit to smile and talk, or rise to ragtime,
And, for their pleasures, agree or disagree.
With secret symbols they play on secret passions.
With cunning eyes they see

The innocent word that sets remembrance trembling,
The dubious word that sets the scared heart beating . . .
The pendulum on the wall
Shakes down seconds . . .  They laugh at time, dissembling;
Or coil for a victim and do not talk at all.

In a land where only rich folk have chins; lived  a man. Ugly and Dim. He was as bright as a flashlight in the afternoon hours. A terrible thing, having thoughts devoured. A drought crossed the land where Ideas once grew now lies a place for neither me nor you. We heard of boy. Quiet wealthy, quiet rich, but deep down a real sonofabitch, who rode ‘gainst the grain and then disappeared. Never to be heard of again.  What a shame to lose the lose the mind of young Ugly and Dim.

I heard a tall tale, or call it a fable; for the lessons quite clear.
It’s a lesson about Ugly and Dim, two brothers in fact who had such an act at the travelling magical show. Dim had the knowledge and Ugly had the looks.
They’d learned their tricks from the book called Don’t Pay Your Dues, and they wound up  all burnt .Except their shoes. Which stood centre stage, where would-be magicians light up in flames, a blaze of ashes.
Such gasps from the crowd as Ugly and Dim began to singe,
and turn crisp and begin to burn, that’s how they fried.
Some soul cried
“I can’t tell if they’re dead or alive!”
As the skin slipped over the skeletal bones
Ugly and Dim were exposed.
Liars and tricksters of illusion will meet an ill-fated conclusion.
Ugly and Dim will see you again, in your moments of moral confusion.

Ugly and Dim; the architects of such modern wonders of
“How things are today!” and “How they oughta be!”
Over 1 million copies of “It’s a you or me mentality!” sold!
Ugly and Dim are ever so bold for the romance  novel: “How Love Gets Old”
Ugly and Dim are you and him,
or her and I, and us  and them.
Sometimes I cry. I’m ugly.
Sometimes I don’t know answers, I’m dim
Sometimes I wake up and I make it through another day.

Septuagint prince scribing on scrivello detail
Emerges from the frogmarch grave of revenants sheepish about ghoulish masquerade
The tribes whittle puckered shibboleths and charismatic vengeance evades
The henpeck of roosters harmonizing sand into grassy knolls of carapace cathedral light
Walks beyond the whimsical despair the conniving conservatories of manufactured fright
Spurned by smokestack confusion above a plastered reconnaissance of abundant life flocking between small awakenings curtailed by fulgurant swelters of blistering white
The spectral dance assumes primordial shades to dampen the windowed elegance of betrayal complicit in the haze
Mojo’s rise and fall with moonshot decades flashing intimacy lived twice barking like a squelched gyrovague relishing the kantikoys of burlesque night
And yet among the bemused stars unbuttoned by the prolixity of the Russia ruse the smear indelible flaunts with decadence in the pleonasm of sluggish articles of flight
How long must the messianic age shelter the nebbich halls of crambazzled piety in science to an upbringing of oligochrome
How many dastardly wernaggles of the rusticated elitism flomp with desultory banquets reminiscent of boiling Rome
Incinerated in an ageless day revived only after a historic lapse of barbarity in the ferule exacted such immeasurable despair
That the prejudice of pride is forever shelved as redundant because the filigrees of geometry only permit curvature in flatness
Convex movements captured in still-framed pillories refract nothing but Blazing Saddles of a caricature full-bloom sun
Yet we marvel at storybook ghosts and the isangelous carapace of marauding instincts forever brave and encaged
Erratic by delivery but sciamachy knows no identifiable age
Scrawny fossarians dig entrenched charnels voraginous with skeletons of brackish regelation enthused by immemorial decay
Must we abridge a hearty ocean in a month’s sublime regaled design of trespasses of unsung heyday spaying its weakest defrocked knight
Armed to the Teeth we seek the terminus of apocalyptic capsules destined for gluttons braving annihilation in the vacuum of orbital planes plain only to the ken of the keenest sight
No we make no petitions in prayer for this Soft Parade of vigor verging on flair
We ransack littoral virtues in nexility bronzed with Stayin’ Alive shoes in remission of staircase blight
Beamish in beatitudes of milquetoast pregnancies of salted Matzah brimming in the yeasts of cesspool emergent from scarecrow metaphors flagrant hauteur gliding on air
Witness the spearhead of revolution in the metagnomy of oracular aubades to future brimstone caverns
Lurking like counterstrokes in revision blackguarded by the feisty prowl of outpaced labtebricole whipsaws of timber readied into foisted brown-brick comestion of elegant emerald errors
Dancing with galactic improvidence concealed by the rigor of lurched liars enthroned with prerogatives of stain-glass adumbration
We parcel up parsecs because clairvoyance among titans is a swank in need of 20/08 visions spectral in the clouds of all prominent registries of memory
Lost to faint delicacies of swift serpents outlasting gnats in the tabernacles of ribald ecbolic promontories on the verge of futile tomorrow pastimes spinsters flummox with slimmerback rigmarole flanged by whinks and escorted by the maskirovka of positive bears in absolute value alone
Yet Enola Gay found its destruction profitable to hominist lore enough to attenuate its evaporation of suffrage in the glint of pervasive remedies to stranded gore
Embanked on the sidelines of conquistador flaunts that a Titanic missive of classy regard found the damsel at the steerage slipping on zalkengur irony the anticlimax of lore
Traipsing fellowship of many a ring is a phony artifice for an ostentation that bellows so loudly when isolated perjury must not whimper but sing
The loudest plaudits afforded to a parallax incumbent white horse in the shadow of Dark Horse occultism a barbed flying wing of the West becoming the king of behest
Scurrilous are many jeers because their similes are baseline just as much as the storged conglomerate behind ensnared rapture looming with less ecstasy and blunt fear remains the kilmarge of simple foresight wrinkled behind the sum of many tears
We await our Creator’s Throne insuperable even with the blandishment of piecemeal craters that are superlative bolides of the weirdest attenuated into the spectrum of eldritch weird
Yet the riches of hobohemia found in “invisible lockets” worn by the travesty of jerseys measuring up to Roadhouse beer
The cartels of citadel cascades built on mountebank fortunes reaped from venal psephology collectively embody the unconscious gamut of javelin cloaks of sardonic sneer
Threnodies written long ago in the Hidden Tracks of sophistry welcome the intermissions of antiquity abridging the donnybrooks of charlatans bossed around by facetious gibes of manicured belletrist humid enough that evaporation itself of rarefied tabacosis has few if any peers
Yet the peerless sketch thrombosis in the oxygeusia of deceptive schadenfreude only to topple jengadangles that glabrous gravity muscles to barely if it all steer
In a vacant reality eager for surrealist bounty the sidereal question of moribund placards supplanted by vibrant living semaphores fixates upon figments of acatalepsy rather than ruddy enumerations of partition despite beloved chalky rudiments filibustering with courtesy rather than jeer
Amicable are ravenous betrayals for chieftains cloffined by warm sapwood integral to equated tantamount mountains festooning firmaments in quaffed delights rigid and keen
The most welcomed blasphemy fragrant with jejune originality celluloid enamors splenetic with sprees of perishable profanity lurking ever more obscene
Regaled in the modest jostle is the forsifamiliation of heterodyne dins of honest applause from the blackguarded periphery among which there are no visible beacons no visible stars
Scarred by diacope enumerated in prescient revelry the trollops of tune and attunement magnetize a riveting weld of seamless geometry that is permeable to ineffable lychgates both porous with prowess and ajar against a golfer’s remediable par
Wizened ghosts flirt with tucked bushes in the forlorn deserts jolted by oasis and flagrant with confection torn asunder by wide-eyed gallantry skipping stones on ataraxia from a distraught afar
That lake of goldmines is scattershot with limey limelight squandered on profligate wrikponds of propinquity but not prolixity in scores and bounties of exoticism in glaikery’s fugitive charm
In proximity there is usucaption but the usufruct of sustainable obelisks to liberty must have the forbearance to bear many witnessed eyes to the Right to Bear Arms
Skirmishes of benighted fracking obsolescence ragged with vitriol and poison-ivy nostalgia flaunt the bromides of algedonic flash over consequences that many disregard
Spiraling with vertiginous pain the scowl of obligation is both seamstress of emblazoned effronteries and the proper reflection of seasoned but not seasonable garb
This barbed quandary riddled with rapacious tendency mixed with myopic bonhomie devours a rickety cacophony of diminutive scopes of ******’s glare to prove each atomic indivisible atrocity a carbonated fulmination heavily barbed
This is all why the killjoys monopolize their gangster vices behind tinted windows and chockablock morality are uxorious bridewells for the bridgewater of garbology sketched by vanity in the outrecuidance of gallionic chasms of an absolute value of firebrand regard
No difference does it make if the recoil is whimpered by hordes of sheep in pretenses of authenticity or whether decapitated delopes emerge from visagist dacoitage snuffed like flavors orbiting self-injury by clockwork towers apace to outlast tertiary bribes for secondary bards
The atocia of freckles in recognition of frail pinnacles summited by daily alpine dilettantist dualisms of polarity are a gullywasher to cleanse and launder indelible regrets carved by aboriginal pottery to memorialize primordial penury
As the slick oleaginous tilts of wicked smart Northeasters swarm the hindsight of Southern Weather afflicted by tempests beleaguered first on recapitulations of Calvary and then deposited evidence upon bourgeoisie
Fumes of the modest flambeaus torching sunken apostasies of hungry spasms of the wind meeting the brusque celerity of the ribald waves rarely etch sublime hint in etch-a-sketch lapses of untimely mobility
Instead that perspicacity of conservatory silence bludgeons Lisbon in the fright before the fall of so many a Phoenix in a foreign land can bear the assaults of the heaved seas
Lambent upon a craggy regularity extinguished by sentinels of the tattered womb for a grimace of prestige by primipara seduction we find no justice of known and knowable terminal disease
Figurative in spoken wisps that predate evaporated concepts of precipitous time the triumph of exalted adoration belongs to hubris but vacant of the prideful decline of crime
To each outspoken verve witnessed on sublunary turf the absolution is nearer to fertility than the craggy soil is to dirt as blemished prowess is a furlough to the sensitive pink tucked manifold beneath each authentic skirt
Liberated by ophelimity but flexed by vicarious pomp in serenade only of hauteur for the hottest we slice and dice a cavern of temptations regardless of enumerated patterns of clearly lopsided dice
We think we live and die but You Only Live Twice in ******* to the oriental bolides of meteoric meteorology preeminent in governing plantations of rice
In jubilant proclamation, I graft from venereal skin a renewed girth of purpose that all enchanted fantasia is a birthright of pleasure more than a vapid drawl of purpose
Glitter bores the scintillation of a denuded naked glory of gore because intimacy is antecedent and consequent to immovable revolutionary procreation of service
To conclude this homily the apothecary in persiflage renounces the role of kilns in both poverty and pottery because his shaken dreams are yelps of a disgusted ornery camaraderie
Listless by oracular dreams of titanic parvenus immune to the sway of tentative croons of Suburban Muse because the grisly subversion of vetust honor that honors not verdict but version of ghastly spools of flimsy epitaphs and not the paragon surgeon is the downfall of a diatribe of petty men
Littering their taradiddles on owleries in overclocked jaundice drowning for purpose among hatcheries of the privvy roosters that own the consequence of audacious pens
Dodgy in interrogation, flummoxed with deracination, isolated by time for time’s recapitulation of surrender in katzenjammer vibes it is time for gossamer servant surfers to borrow nine and hang ten
But the noose of the wednongue nun specializes in puritanical Model Ts for DeLoreans trendsetting years ago because listless lethargy benights the glory that cineastes already won
Teeming on the brink of tomorrow is the progeny of hopeless yesteryear engraved on the iconoclasm of the weak after the next debacle because the Earth after Christ has already borne a Ton
Liturgies revised to reflect corsair trigonometry aimed forever at zephyrs of plight bathe in July 3rd infamy doctored by Generators and Generations before and beyond Walter White menacing the saber with imperious might
Flowered in the nuisance of death is the womb of the arena participant to infinite relapses of contention gladiatorial only when the shunamitism of shanachies sheds serpentine grit for the blench of ligonies of redoubled sight
Towering from the knave inferno of a tramontane elusive cordial imitation of captive citizens of attentive sites the illusion is the vanguard of centuries guarded gingerly by Canada Dry sprites
Rollicking in vehement magpiety attuned to machismo if marginally the sultry philander of naked ruse medicates the charmed Apache Indian on his brief encounters with limousine cruise
Stark in sunken destination glimpsing coal-fire recursive ironies the cloned subversion is a golden calf so effete because it never moos about instinctual muse relegated by twin terrors riddled with sparkplug truce
Limited by scopes enlarged by scales mired in funereal pyres to rigmarole sensationalism worthy of nativist coercion and pivoted lyres the riddle of terminus remains an acquiescent scoff, cough and quaff that never expires
It reaches planetary dread of vast distances regaled against gambits of the spread so the richest sourdough appeases the riper vipers of the nested bed
Recalcitrant with frugal uxorious creed the leader of esquivalience is the headless horseman of innumerable tractions but no mouth to feed
He digests the gallop of the gallant interregnum specious in caitiff ploys and the recessive allele of commiserations against the piety of apolaustic joy because rambunctious speed always attracts a resignation professed from the tailspin of a crass voyage of ludic greed
Tricksters boast of passionate lubrications of finessed bread recocted from useless toasts glowering with insipid pallor as heat and humidity reckon billows of hype congregated more in cisterns of apostasy for remark than a marksman headshot of a Head Hunter wed tightly to a pregnable visions of proactive Ghost
Recidivism and time have a vendetta against verdant drolleries coated by waxen plenilune accordions rampant with polyacoustic rhymes
The tridents of mercurial weather bent on the ineffable vacillations of whether are the brazen opponent of Sterling fatherhood of life’s only father the clockwork animation of a living patronage of eternal existence cobbled from immutable time
To the glory of the Father the sun shades its whimpers and the moon alights as the frontispiece of nocturnal revisions to the New York Times but the hues of rocketed ingenuity coax the ingratiated few to the laureates of genius reckoned with both designation and superlative artifacts of pristine design
Haunted by Green-Light Politics for Greener-Eyed Ladies masquerading in star-crossed tomes of existential dread of lollygagged playful mischief tucked in the coach as he leads his team with sophrosyne feel-good invictive treacle we witness the fumiducts of fortune blitzing Hail Mary contrition with earnest specialty in defense of offensive precision
Games won by the squirrel are outnumbered by the stars in the heavens flagrantly devoid of specialized electricity enough to encapsulate the ommateum of collectivized insights found only in the most evolved sequence of cell division
Incarcerated by the scrappy schlep of bad beats and bronzed chariots roiled by the momentum of angular spears we seek oracular transcendence that cements decades into the span of days that portend the deliverance of future years from past and present fears
Presiding as proctor in the redacted exoneration of crash-course pilots glowering with the effluvium of recensed perdition the heyday of one becomes the mayday of anarchy tested only by the alacrity of the summation of its beloved yet maligned cheers
Against a prosperity hard-won by earnest husbandry commandeered by gammerstang notoriety spawning the recrimination of star power into centupled peers negligent of zero-sum opinionation wagered by Country Club fraternities embedded in the taxonomy of wilted hackumber for hegiras minimized by outcry but cemented by Dear Johns’ twinged with sultry pleonexia in taxed tears
So with the whipsaw of the individual between the collective funnel and the idiosyncratic insubordination that amplifies outcry galvanized throes of insemination built on cross-pollination is melliferous to a pretense of alchemy outstretched to sidereal wonder
Hardest to guess is intimacy clothed in Platonic virtues crumbling because puritanical pilgrimage is appraised as a joyous thunder for a abnegation from all potential blunders
To wager such a life is a depredation of the abundance that John breathes as a ceremonial birthright cast aside by latent regrets stampeding the realm of nosocomial reflections of the pallor of a lurid squander
So we are left to bemuse the decrepit bodewash of realism taken to such a virulent extreme it leaves few artifacts of nostalgia to croon about and ponder and fewer abstractions to yield to manicures of elegant troponder
Diminutive sinews in the intertesselations of heft profess a fidelity of notoriety carving life before and after death
Unsung by the beadledom of the usucaption of exotic tailored musician brutes upon my landlocked assault of chryselephantine usufruct I lampoon nescience as it lurks in murky graveyards of anoegenetic zombies covered in thick pigments of piggish soot
Yet this fuliginous bronteum of warped clarity transfixed by the ulterior wednongues of atrocious spans of provenance jilting providence makes betting interests of rivalry outcomes harder to win earnest roots
The trees of the gamboled skittish resignation of checkered blinks obscuring the curtailed discernment of bedizened slogans of future campaigns yet distasteful in ornery churning the bootstrapped tie their tethered laces to their acquired boots
Barnstorming through afflicted spandrels of abeyance shepherded by notions of public dereliction by imperium of centrobaric centripetal philters of concubine rhymes I surge beneath cordial flonky redhibition because of redshorts in estimable traction cemented by supernal design
Weak in luster my potent pollination for synergistic aplomb evades the fringe of corrugated affections mounted upon quixotic escapades of jockeyed statistics flourishing by reticence rather than frazzling the prolix emulation filibustering the mundane ignorance but garnering the harvest of the plevisable sequence from prime to prime indivisible by liberty alone or complicit with cadence sublime
Finishing the sermons of modern apostasy to a gallant cause my laments outnumber the muzzles belonging to the quorum of begrudged applause in the rawest spectacle of unheralded genius clawing insistently at the heart of electric gravity
The nuances of plausible nuisance bicker in emerald harlots of the tantamount nature of derelict frikmag to calculated prosodemic solidarity around insanity because the vein of the golden ore should see ivoride as nullification and inanity
We all stoop on counterfeit stencils of pretense hearkening a clairvoyant sun to droop for closer inspection but detective remonstrance is outmoded by dreary witless defections
Thus the drawl scrawled by the genius flonky in gadzookerie but gilded in rhapsodies of ineffable cadence fighting orthodoxy to a relegated draw sketches the outline of the special talents of lying claws
Because stipulated in the vast oversight that predicates reprisals of retches glazing in obtuse effronteries with eccedentesiast odontoloxia we witness the corrosion of race and gender into pontificating audits of nomadic treason in a fortress militarized by niche applause
Trickling from repcrevel faucets implicit degradation is a casual casualty of an abbreviated motive gestured in ponderous stupidity to distract abiding legislation into the giggled gaggle of tinsellated glitter
Fatuous by vacuums of gaudy prizes worthy only of token motions rather than locomotive strains of virulent and compassionate respect lapsed on vigors of vehement regret is a sing-song ridicule of a still-framed pillory erected as the obstacle that gouges the riddles of impediment and deprives the luxury of preferential emolument siphoned off to lurid jeers of mockery propaganda sizzling in the cauldrons of tilted marginalization
So we witness the faded declension of the hubris of fair-weather camaraderie as a flux dispersal of invidious buoyant bloviated streaks of temporal grit into inverted revelry never shared by the proper ubiquity of streams of personal recompense for plodding fragments of invasion
If I veer away from bickering cackles of denounced preeminence swiveled to face the shadows upon the great cavern of insuperable bounds of fickle human ignorance I deplore the vaunted toadies that shrink my shadow and diminish my viable conceptual and vibrant footprints
Few extinct creatures know the annihilation of petty fame quaffed on Whiskey Bars I never met because the insipid banal pleonasms of restructured irony grimace at my complexion as the scent of the game alerts the foibles of a champion begotten once before as a shark-tank prince
Livid is my grief in the aborning moral quandary of sunken priority overlapping with piebald skeumorphs of retches of blinkered allegiance faltering prior to the primary day of my true awakening because the completion of nesiote subterfuge  rusts on creaky hinges of noncommittal regressions of pointed but pointless deluge
I spar with the augury of irrelevance with a five-pointed star bequeathing rigid but plentiful provision to assist with more than a petty dime of tithe to a 20/20 flash of perfect prescience and hallowed vision
The eve of all destruction is the lollygag of subordinate squawks redacting convenient priorities on the slowpoke walks through teenage immaturity found in the infamous “talk” that the world is governed by evasion in supremacy rather than by the bywords of the perennial stocks in sublime stalks
This nation perishes with my visionary clarity because the bifocal constraints of delimited defenestration remands my custody beneath ****** upheaval documented by useless historians of deliberation in gaffe and ammunition for agitprop flickering away the aubades of praise for the stilted pretense of sclerotic values inflexible to authorship thus scuttled by crowdsourced dictatorship
How sad a spate that the welters of sciamachy hide behind the glaring shadow of immeasurable genius for an unwarranted earwig to steal the echoes of my thunder and poison the servitude of the minions to companionship to highlight aggrieved infamy over walloping feats of refrain found in an isolated rather than protracted celebrity
The guilt of the reproachable beams through the frikmag of tyrannical bouts of circular wernaggle as I carve spherical reckoning that outstretches in all viable directions so that “The Mailman” and the Male Man both succeed in historic insurrection
Flashy benumbed brutish ferules of ferocious dainty dances with an arbitrary cage highlighted among a voiceless heyday for an auditorium which perceives insanity more dangerous than inanity is a profane stipulation by wrinkled mediagenic hubris which scours planetary limitations for excuse to recourse and recourse to excuse
We find marvels in subtlety finicky on the apothegms of heterochrony divergent even further from syndication as the regimented nuances of abuse become plucky daredevils that cozen robust vital sapwood from anglers seizing by seizure the roundabout logic of the innumerable minority characterized forever obtuse
I writhe in delicate contortions of flexed directional bypass surmounting orthodromic velocities capering with the anenometers that spar against spangled enthusiasm only to become an anointed slave of the flagging moral resolve fulminating a huffed crusade with silentiums of false asylum for true achievement brusque against any resourceful tempest scurrying the hidebound illusion of pandemonium for scrappy shenanigans of vergers and emptied pews griping with the dearth of the day-to-day despite the known tomorrow
We cannot affix primary focus upon constellated wasms of puckered abstention borrowed from a maskirovka of secret hedonism wed to many vices among wives but deprived of sacrosanct remuneration for abiding expenses yet an atoll upon a continent decisive in its aborning revolution
Ribald wiseacres of a jovial dismay flanged on rectiserial exaggerations of sebastomania is a stranded frigate of a fugitive escapism wandering with nomadic insistence against cosseted blackguard of assertion without plenipotentiary verdicts against the suborned crater of overstated flimsy truculence in sardonic dissolution
In trespass of a reservation of recoiled tender of tutelage proctoring unseemly haggardly refuse to creak into noisome and noisy cacophony armed by centurions of merciless scorn that lackadaisical winter belies the meteoric riches of autumn mainour fungible with the retches of remorseful decay dangling retreat above entreaty for exasperated wednongues lacking curiosity or the backbite of counterfeit engastrimyths seeding an unknowing complicity to fallacy forked over by chiefs and chefs to an amounted dubiety reserves the armaments of glib sedition for inopportune blacklists by a whitewashed Listerine amenable to launder travestime into oversight rather than belabor banal graft upon the agelasts of a toilsome operose labor to trivialize Herculean monuments to creativity as backwater residence of restive plucky percurrent revivals of infamy as a primary thorn rather than a secondary abreaction
Sentinels swift to the expedited squalor intrepid in sclerotic simpers of renowned defalcation bludgeoned by the tridents of harmonized trauma healing the brayed complaint while regaining the quixotic statute of plevisable mobility belongs to the froward counterpunch to the flippant underminnow of savagery yet among noble personage a blip on furloughs rather than a singed diacope perishing in Wasting Light for denuded darkness to supplant the vacated stage of ironic upbringing bartered from a treasury of obsolete wasms of trivial shadows in the amounted lineage of time.
Elected by the purblind fudged cadge of intransigent solidarity behind unhinged proclamations of lewd lunacy the reset of wibble-wabble and conflagrations of trenchant visibility will cloud the cloudiest tempest with hurricane-force devastation by the healing stripes of the piebald idiosyncrasy of gerrymandered defamation failing where insular regeneration outlasts hamartia and blinkered foibles of girouettism to pillory the excess but not transmogrify the whittled progress of seminal generativity unbounded by harped lyres of discord for secret concords of select femicide
With outstretched hands I point to the tapestry of the Heavens as eternal folksy witness that to endear the temperance of time bullishly roaring on the laureates of prolific servitude to the malleable substance of capered argument the enigmatic punctuation outweighs the baragnosis of miscreant opportune glares at personal prospect for aggrieved sockdolagers of redstrall over the filigrees of innate geometry to cackle above the shouted gnash and the dissoluble squirms of blackened cremation of living memories into insipid fracking of sapwood caitiffs flowing on the motion of discredit rather than honor in valuable endeavor for future genuflection
Totems value me as much as they stalk grazed hinderbaggle of cosmetic devolution of ragged popcorn theatrics in the desuetude of normative ethics beneath the carcass of rotten dastardly cowardice brandishing an ulterior discretion beneath the level of the lowest stoop of any breed founded on loyalty verging into flagrant snipers of integrity for the integral unshakable paragon of broad illumination the guidepost for many spectral truths overshadowed by one miserly fool flummoxing with albatross without the overhang  of pluvious integrity shepherding his hauteur in zig-zagged wallops rather than buoyant serenades
Thus entrenched in juicy poignant barricades against virulent spawn of the katzenjammers of squawking femicide I spout the blossom, bequeath the gift, renounce the delusion and form a formidable bastion against depredated valleys blemished from sight by intolerable patches of darkened verdure hiding from commonwealth perception the pearl of ecumenical salvation swimming in the naked tongues of honest profession dancing with conventional demarcated demerits of Rimbaud ramshackle deracination as a humdrum belittled squander of a prop of craven filibuster rather than beavers outsmarting the delignated destruction of habitat because of outright distaste for plucky individuation above the squalor of relativism in minor octaves of gnashed betrayal rigged by hamsters rather than owned by the men trigger-happy with rat race motivation only to the servitude of degrees rather than plausible recovery embedded into the fabric of fickle society
Hidebound tomes fishing for destruction but grappling with the enormity of the plagued pitfall of ceramic skirmish with brittle conscience emerge with epincion rather than sulk in brooded hyperbole of convenient drapes of flocks postulating irrelevance clearly in the light of the truest day frolicking with gigantic swaddles of curated support etching masterpieces of traipse into the frescades of future calenture beyond the petty misestimation of hemitery politics
Thus the weapon serves two masters of row rather than regatta and the besieged rankles the testy predicament to a teased poetry riveted by years of rhapsody rather than moments of tomfoolery emergent victorious rather than dilapidated by what-could-have-been chary brinkmanship on the precipice of modern sacrilege
To instruct the herds of men to hoard and the wisdom of the wise to circulate that apothegm of reclamation owns superlative traction fundamental to whimsical festivity even forsaken on a churlish masquerade outmantled by frenetic activity famigerated by the true Richter Scale of public fanfaronade because justice is truth and only in germane truth beyond germ scares will decrepit scarecrows demolish their Fear Factor even when the gullible squirm for nexility on bounded continents rather than novantique frontiers
Conscription demarches for assembly beyond relegation and celebrity above frays of discordant rumination feasting advenient rather than cherishing internal and integral the virtuoso wrabble of residue generations churning wheels of acceleration rather than quibbling extinguished vitality as principal complaint exercised in negligent abodes of facetious barnacles to outlandish freckles in the majestic pulchritude of a Titanic salvation beyond and considering the curglaff of sunken resources pitted to my registry by slot-machine audiences incognizant of brittle whittled henpecks of adoring truth and perdurable verve
We sink and die by destructive tongues but abide and live by righteous exemplary prowess capable of scraping the towering canvass of the firmament and the retches of the deepest sea inhabited by any curiosity worthy of emolument
So in token liturgy I decry sidelong cursory squandered affronts that drive the Jehus madcap with fractious celerities of formal destitution rampant on flonky menace rather than modern hypertrophy
In The End, we see triumph in every nuance and bristling concord with every perspiration of ennobled effort truckling into serrated selachostomous and fractious bromides of wrecking-ball fashionistas fumigating cultural pederasty with subtle bailiwick but ragged travesties of taxidermy celluloid
Marvel in-between the serenade and grandstand and cull the turnverein of triumph from banished evasive rundles of the outlasted calculus to neuter the estranged and to estrange the atocia of vibrant surreal vibes no stranger to an alien hand in a desolate world.

There's a girl bopping her head to the music,
A boy wanderin' 'round with a guitar
Who don't know how to use it.
Traffic fills my ears and eyes,
Onions and smoke and fries.

Beat up sneakers and flip flops
Bandanna people with orange tops,
Hipsters, tricksters
Hustlers and saints
Empty, wandering, full of complaints.

Broken, discordant conversations
Elaborate, intricate exaggerations
Dusty, ugly sidewalk
Happy, ugly small talk.

Sighs and trees...
Silent pleas
From the lost
Who couldn't pay the cost
To belong:

An aria for the wrong.

In the beginning
crows were
as white as snow.
No.
Whiter than that.
Liquid silver.

But in these times
we see Crow as black,
though you will observe
Crow is silver in the sun
(which proves my point).

And there he is
at the very top of
that hemlock tree.

Surveys his rude world
and sees below
one whose ancestors
were here even before
tricks and tricksters.

Even before crows.

Coyote
Old Man
sly one
always ready with a joke
or a riddle

They say he spun the Milky Way
with his deceit
told the Earth's first lie

And as for riddles:
answer at your peril
or carry him
like a whispering sack
upon your back
until the end.

a cairn on every mountain
chronological tricksters stacked
by near naked natives, or frat brothers
who pointed the way there
with crushed Bud cans?

fossils were less disingenuous,
treasures from a Jurassic sea, staring  
back at me--coprolites a fine find, evidence
our voiceless progenitors also
squatted and shat

after days of wilderness
wandering, I found a lonely menhir
tall as two men, wide as one, in no
particular vantage point
to the sun

who carved this monolith
I'd never know; how it was dragged here
would vex me even more

I sat beneath its shadow
until it stretched a desert mile
all the while watching, waiting
for someone to return
to claim it

when no one finally did,
I rubbed my hands on its weather worn flanks,
and bid goodnight to ancient strangers  
who worshiped this silent stone

Hard Topics more or less Essential?
To speak your mind raise your voice
Your choice

Life fundamentals which are potentially not fun to mention or list them in a Corrupt System
That is Systematically
Problematic

Absurd to merge these choice words
with opposing verbs
To please the Masses

Seeing how The Watchers watch
and observe from an Orbital distance

For they have their Watchmen and henchmen but not to be confused with
Jehovah's true or 2 witness

For the rings of Saturn have
dangerous curves

These here I recognize as anti-Christ like
or anti-Christian affiliated or anything
remotely anti-Christ or anti-
Christian

Like a one world Religion

I'm talking NWO false prophetic enlisted
Tricksters mixed in with vicious
Political figures

No figment of my imagination
hearsay or a conspiracy with a twist

I'm just down for exposing
Who's Who
Call me a Conspiracist
with a list

No.. better yet
I'm more like a Realist
with a real list

And no I'm not Heaven sent
or Hell bent on the descension of
your opinions

Because I have my own Ascension
to ascend to

With other worldly entities from other
Dimensions against me
Who hate me for being Christ affiliated
and Christ opinionated

With a whole unholy Nation sanctioned
to alienate me with more hatred?
Big Mistake

For I'll just debate it as being Under-estimated
And hold true to the Essentials
of Life fundamentals
Unabated

We pilfer light here in these cold far rooms
Fast stolen to our beds and darkened fears
Unbowed and casting evil eyes and stares
On any soul who dares to dream of home;
Alight in shadows, tricksters view false thrones
While basking in the glow of claps and sneers
Amid the stench of truth long dead from spears
Like lies inflicted ******* hearts and bones;
Still, somewhere reason now ignites the mind,
It calms the righteous anger of our tears
To carry feet on paths that passions hide;
So long as we defend the joy of days
Hope cannot wane nor freedom ever fade.

In These Days And Times...
It’s Getting HARD To Find...

People On Whom...
You Can TRULY RELY... !!!!!

Because of The Mood...
That’s Now Defining Life... !!!

COMPULSORY Orders...
To... PROTECT Borders... !!!

CONTROLS For Souls.....
Now LOSING HOPE... !!!

Due To LOSING Their Jobs...
And... RISING Costs... !!!!!

So What Have We Got... ???
A... CORONA ROT... !!!

That’s TRULY SHOCKED...
And CLEARLY ROCKED...

The Lives of... MANY...
That Are Now UNSTEADY... !!!

In THESE Days And Times...
It’s Now... HARD To Find...

... TRUE Peace of Mind...

Which Is Why I Write Rhymes...
To... STOP My Brain...
From... Going INSANE...
In These CRAZY DAYS... !!!!!

Because Its All A Haze...
And Now The Type of Maze...

That May Well Leave Some...
Finding Themselves STUCK...
With NO Place To RUN... !!!

It’s... FAR FROM FUN...
Watching Governments...
Now DESTROY Freedoms... !!!

Because It Now Seems...
That They Want REGIMES...
That ALLOW Their Teams...
To DICTATE What’s Seen...
And... WHO Can Speak... !!!

But In Truth Isn’t That...
How Its... ALWAYS BEEN... !!!

Within Their So Called... “ Societies “...
So Now Theories... About CONSPIRACIES...
Are Those That Feed What MANY BELIEVE...

But The Sheople’ OUTNUMBER...
Those Who Refuse To Play The Roles...
of... DUMB And DUMBER... !!!

When It Comes To The Vibes...
of These Days And Times...
Where Racism IGNITES...
Like... DYNAMITE... !!!

And Is Causing FIGHTS...
All Because of Black Lives...
That Apparently MATTER...
Once They Have... DIED... ?!?

So Now There Are Countries...
That Are... FAR And WIDE... !!!!!

Where The Race Discussion...
Is... Reaching Minds...
Who Preferred To Stay Blind...
To How Ignorance Functions...
And STILL Affects Lives...

WAY BEYOND Police Lines... !!!!!

It’s... ALWAYS BEEN...
What Black People Have Seen...

But Suddenly... APPARENTLY...
It Requires MORE TALK...
Than... EVER BEFORE... ?!?

But In ALL HONESTY...
It’s Beginning To BORE... !!!

ALL This TALK of CHANGE...
From... FAMOUS Names...

Who’ve Played The Game...
of... Waiting For A Train...
Or... BANDWAGONS...
For Them To JUMP ON... !!!

When They’ve Been...
... " Playing Along "...
To Get To... The TOP...

of These Industries...
Where Racism BREATHES...
Quite... EASILY...................... !!!

As LONG As THEY...
Were RECEIVING MONEY... !!!

There’s MUCH HYPOCRISY...
In Times Like These... !!!

So People Should Read...
... BETWEEN The Lines... !!!

BEFORE They Find Themselves ALIGNED...
With The Types of... Figures...
Who Are Really... SHAPE SHIFTERS... !!!!!

Or In Other Words... GRIFTERS...
Who Are Known To Be TRICKSTERS... !!!

And... Societal WINNERS...
Who Are The WORST Kind of SINNERS... !!!

Sitting At... DINNERS...
With The Type of Thinkers...
Who Prefer To Wear BLINKERS...

Than To SEE THE TRUTH...
About... RACIST Moves...

And The Type of ISSUES...
That Now... Confuse... ?!?

That Are Fuelling DARK MOODS... !!!
It’s A... " WHOLE NEW WORLD "...
That Now... UNFURLS... !?!

And Has REARRANGED...
How The Game of Life...
Will Now Be... Played... !!!

Which Is Why I Find...
Myself Inclined...
To Sit And Write Rhymes...

About What Life’s Now Like...

In....

“These Days And Times”....

Listen up barflies, tricksters and drunks,
People’s lives wasted with heads down the dunk;
What if there really is a land for you and me,
Where the bar is eternal, refills are free.

You may have heard the jokes
Escaping creased lips,
Cheeks scattered with scars
Lives rallied around bars.

But I implore you;
What if the beer runs in a river
And contains something sweet to help along your liver

Bags of peanuts grow on trees
No alley-way dogs crawling with fleas,
No aging ******, the price a humiliating tease.

We of the wasted, the broken; the done
Heaven doesn’t really sound like much fun.
Tennis greens and elegant scenes
Don’t meet our  tastes
For ***** ashtrays
Engine oil and grease;
Gangs of bikers and hordes of police.

When I find that sign creaking in the wind
I’ll indulge in one final binge;
With an ex-wife in Hawaii
A boy out in Leicester (or New Mexico)
A veteran-frazzled brother
And a daughter who doesn’t want to know;
A bank sends love letters requesting my stuff.

The bible urges me clean
I look up to heaven
Doesn’t sound like my scene.

So hear me you wasted, you hardened,
Capillaries burst staining noses red;
Let’s comply to the census
And drink ‘til we’re dead,

Because the eternal bar, the river of beer,
Is all in your drunken head.

we took turns toking,
holding the tent pole up
while the rain battered
the canvas

dawn crawled
over the great rocks;
a synovial silence
after the storm

still ******
we finally succumbed  
to sleep, for an eternal
minute  

until awakened by Huns
on horses, hoof beats ricocheting  
off the hard stones, echoing
in the canyons

worse than that thunder,
the eerie emanations riding
the backs of the staccato waves
from the beasts’ shod feet    

words flung from the riders’ tongues
slapping our ears, bedeviling our weary wits,
these time traveling tricksters, transporting    
us to a world at war

Hueco Tanks, Texas, July, 1969

There’s an uneven contempt for hipsters
–those ephemeral horn-rimmed misters–
who gallup through life
quite undaunted by strife
peddling style to both monsters & tricksters

Goblins, gremlins ghosts and more
Tricksters and treaters candy allure
Parties, parades, dances galore
Masks, costumes,  
gowns to adore.
Whatever you do,
don't open the door.
Happy Halloween

In time apart my heart did not grow fonder
For there is no more fondness into which can be grown
Your absence from my side did not fade you from thought
For memory and foresight kept my loneliness company
My love did not weaken under the weights of doubt and suspicion
For the tricksters stupidly take refuge in my mind
That constantly changes, continues to run
Their images planted remain nothing but a blur
That even in my noticing would bear no detriment
For the love they seek to hinder is far from the battlefields they have chosen

They fight a war in the darkness of their shadow
Tripping themselves and killing their own men
Searching for the light they strive to put out
Their torches of destruction giving more flame to my fire
Burning brightly in the fields out of their reach.